


An Artform

by thirtysecondson



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Kitchen Sex, almost, might do a follow up one day, not quite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 13:54:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20836580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirtysecondson/pseuds/thirtysecondson
Summary: In which Hades tries to cook their anniversary meal, and Persie ruins the fuck out of it.





	An Artform

It had started innocently enough. Working his way through the kitchen with well practiced choreography. And if he remembered correctly, which he often did, this had been her request, had it not? Spending their special evening beside him, learning exactly how it was he prepared everything her Spring had created in this kitchen of theirs? 

He eyed her cautiously, catching the way her hip jutted against his side any time he drew close enough. The way her hands would gently fall atop his when he gave any inclination of instruction. The hot puff of her breath against his knuckles when he offered her a taste from the spoon. Even the curve of her breast as she leaned over his arm to watch him chop, or stir, or- 

Hades was growing impossibly warm, peering down into the oven to check on the roast, and rising quickly to escape its heat. The smile she met him with caught him off guard, sending a flurry of warmth curling around his heart. The feeling was still horribly unfamiliar and left his mouth dry. He was quick to quell the thirst with a glass of golden nectar, letting the sweet taste of it rise on his tongue before swallowing thickly.

“I think it’s burning,” Persephone said quietly, stirring at the vegetables he’d been intending to char anyway. One hundred years together and she was still soft in her reproach of his cooking. Hades groaned internally, watching as a leaflet charred from it’s preferred deep golden color to something much more abysmal for what was meant to be their 100th anniversary dinner.

“Hades…” she started softly, her small hand raising to tuck between his elbow. He was pushing at the lifeless thing with the back of a wooden spoon, watching it turn blacker still and begin to stick to the pan. “Hades-” she started again, only to watch him put down the spoon and back away, his hands gripping the counter desperately for some idea of control. When he looked at her fully though, he felt his breath catch in his chest.

“Cooking is supposed to be an artform,” he replied to her finally, an exasperated sigh following his gaze at the extra charred vegetables and the long forgotten timer he was meant to set on the oven. At least her tofu had survived his negligence, still simmering gently in a frying pan.

“You’ve certainly made it one,” Persephone giggled back at him, standing at the opposite counter, her feet carefully reaching to part his crossed legs so she might invade his space better. He rolled his eyes at her response, but smiled all the same, allowing his legs to be parted for her, the heat from her bare skin almost burning through his trousers. Hades took the time to appreciate it, the curve of her pink calf, the way the black fabric of her gown contrasted perfectly, draped about her as though the fabric had been crafted specifically for her use.

“It hardly feels like it when there is a Little Goddess in my kitchen using every feminine wile in her arsenal to distract me,” he countered, stilled hips cutting into the edge of the countertop but angling his torso forward, meeting her wide eyes with a raised brow.

“Me? My dear husband, you think I would ask you to cook for me, only to distract you?” Her feigned innocence had his brow vaulting. “That would make me quite the scoundrel, and I do believe you’ve cornered the market on that,” she added, pressing her hand to her chest. The action had not been lost on him as one of his fingers reached to trace the path from her elbow to where her fingers lay perched. She watched him with the same eyes he had met so many years ago, wide and curious.

“I suppose it never does to call one’s own wife a scoundrel,” Hades replied, though his voice was far, eyes too focused on the soft flesh and the barely there indent left in the wake of his fingertip. This time she did not answer, a feat she had learned had more power over him than anything. In her silence, he pulled himself from the countertop, now towering over her slight form. Her eyes held his, a brief flash of red highlighting pink iris, a reminder to him of her ultimate power.

In an instant his hands were on her, a handful of her perfect heart shaped rear in each palm, placing his beautiful bride atop the counter to meet him with parted legs. She smiled, almost too smug for his liking until she softened, small hands creeping up to wrap around his neck. Her fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, sending a shiver running through his body. ‘Just perfect,’ he thought, ‘King of the Underworld and I’m reduced to a quivering beast.’

“Hades?” Barely a question, and almost breathy, the sound of it caught his undivided attention, eyes intent on her. “Happy anniversary, my love,” her voice small, a remnant of the young girl he’d met decades before. At this he smiled, turned off the burners and the oven, cupped her firmly in his hands once more, and tugged her that much closer. 

“At least 80% scoundrel, Kore,” he whispered against her ear before lifting her once more and taking his Queen to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Starting to get back into writing~
> 
> Leave kudos, comments, cliff notes (?), suggestions! Anything!
> 
> Going to get through a bunch of potentially nsfw writing prompts so here we go~


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